


You Make Me Feel Safe

by localmilflover



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-11 23:56:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28751031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/localmilflover/pseuds/localmilflover
Summary: just a little fluff romance piece btw young poppy and minerva <3
Relationships: Minerva McGonagall & Poppy Pomfrey, Minerva McGonagall/Poppy Pomfrey
Comments: 5
Kudos: 21





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> obvs, none of these characters are mine, credits to the series author.

Minerva McGonagall nodded at the young blonde woman from over the top of her book as she entered the teachers lounge. Poppy worked at St Mungos for most of her career, until Dumbledore had requested she move to Hogwarts and work there. Minerva wasnt sure how they knew each other, but apparently she was a trusted individual.  
Poppy couldnt be more than 30, about her age, Minerva concluded as she appraised the slender woman. Normally, she wasnt the nosy type, but something about the new infirmary matron made her want to know more.

“Professor?” Poppy said, breaking the silence after brewing a cup of tea. 

“Minerva, please,” she said stoically, placing her spectacles on the table. 

Poppy took a seat across from her, her pale blue robes swishing. “Minerva. How are you?” 

Small talk? Minerva was taken aback. Normally, she didn’t start small talk, nor did she invite it from others. Although she wasn’t unfriendly, she was often withdrawn, from students and colleagues as well. 

Ah well, this woman was new.

“Ah, I’m reading a book on a new theory about experimental transfiguration. Fascinating stuff, really.”

Poppy raised her eyebrows. “I’m sure it is. But I asked how you were.” She sipped her tea. Was Minerva imagining the smile that ghosted her lips?  
She was even more taken aback than before. Minerva barely knew this woman, and she was already pushing her boundaries. By nature, Minerva was closed off, rarely relinquishing the scarcest detail about herself, whether present, past, or future. 

“I’m...fine,” she said finally, fully putting her book down to scrutinize the woman before her. “And you?”

“Very well, thank you.”

So she hadn’t imagined the smile. 

“How are you enjoying Hogwarts?” Minerva said politely, folding her hands in her lap.

“It’s very nice,” Poppy beamed. “I didn’t go to school here myself, and its really a lovely place.”

Minerva nodded, tapping her foot softly on the ground. She looked at the clock, and leapt up from the table. “Oh, I really must get to class.”

Poppy raised her eyebrows. “The next period doesn’t start for another twenty minutes.”

“I like to be prepared,” Minerva replied. “Good day, Poppy.”

“Good day, Minerva.”

And Minerva couldn’t deny the shudder that went down her spine as the woman said her name, nor the way her face lingered in her mind far longer than it should’ve.

Perhaps that was the reason she got out of that room and to class so quickly. Poppy Pomfrey had barely been in Hogwarts for five minutes before she struck a chord in Minerva’s walls. And that frightened her. Never before had she wanted to open the gates and just let someone in. What was it about that woman??


	2. Chapter 2

It was a bit after classes had ended, and Minerva was sitting in her office, enjoying the warm fire before her. A book was open on her lap, and she was curled rather comfortably in the chair, legs tucked underneath her. 

She heard a knock at the door and promptly untucked those legs. 

“Come in!” Minerva said, and the door swung open to reveal Poppy Pomfrey.

She felt herself sitting up straighter in the chair. “Poppy,” she said. “Can I help you with something?”

The green robes she wore had been unbuttoned and exposed her high collared black dress, which swept around her curves. Well, perhaps it was not entirely professional to be seen in such a manner, but there was nothing to be done about it now. Was she imagining Poppy’s gaze slowly drifting over her form?

Poppy beamed at her. “I was wondering if you wanted to get tea. Sometime. In hogsmeade. Get to know each other. Because I’m new and all.”   
Minerva paused. And against her best instincts, she replied, “Er- yes. I think-I think that’d be nice.”

———-

They met on a sunny Sunday morning, huddling in the corner of a small tea shop.

Minerva arrived first, overly punctual as ever.   
The blonde matron entered not long after, striding through the door with sure steps. Her hair was braided and falling down her back, and her dress was yellow and informal. Poppy smiled as they locked eyes across the bustling shop, and Minerva found her presence lit up the room like sparks from a wand.

The small table separated them by only a few feet, and it would be untruthful to claim that their hands did not brush more than once as they stirred their tea. 

They greeted each other, their words tenuous but promising. They ordered, galleons clinking as Minerva insisted on paying.

“Earl grey?” Poppy said afterwards, her lips quirking upwards. 

“Yes, thats right.”

Poppy handed her a napkin. “Earl grey tea...so you’re a no nonsense person. Value efficiency and productivity.”

Minerva raised her eyebrows in answer. “And what does chai tea say about you?” she asked, indicating Poppy’s order.

Poppy shrugged. “I guess you’ll have to find out.”  
“I suppose you know I take that as a challenge,” Minerva said sternly. 

Their tea floated to their table, directed by an unseen wand. They waved in thanks.

“I’m counting on it.”

Although Minerva felt awkward and unsure at first, she found herself falling into an easy rhythm with the woman across from her. 

They didn’t talk of anything of substance. Perhaps Poppy sensed it would scare her off her good.   
Sometimes Minerva wondered if she really was a Gryffindor. She could be brave for others, for sure, but did she really know how to be brave for herself? 

But she felt like she could be brave with Poppy, if she wanted to. 

But I digress.

They parted ways not long after. Somehow, their simple chat of students and theories and spells lingered in both their minds after they left.

———

There were plenty more occasions like this, simple chats and contented conversations, that grew every time they sat down together. Minerva found herself revealing snippets of her childhood and life to Poppy, which the matron happily reciprocated. As the months passed, they evolved from a professional to a friendly relationship. Neither noticed quite how much they relied on their fireplace chats, often bearing the worst days in order to make it to an hour with the other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> is this crap? i dont know its fun


	3. Chapter 3

Early April  
Poppy leaned back on her heels, barefoot in the grass. Minerva McGonagall was across from her, her legs neatly tucked under her skirts. A picnic blanket was spread out below them, the yellow and white patches matching the daisies dotting the field. Poppy gazed at Minerva, who wore a strappy blue dress that left her shoulders bare. The material clung to her body, fine silk accentuating every curve. Her hair was still tied up, but in a loose bun that left curls tumbling down around her ears and neck.   
Minerva handed Poppy another wildflower, plucking it from the meadow with deft fingers. Poppy braided the final flower into the flower crown in her lap. She carefully leaned across the blanket to place the crown on Minerva’s head, her fingers trembling slightly. Minerva gave a rare smile as she did so, leaving Poppy suddenly breathless. Instead of retreating, Poppy stayed, barely breathing, less than an inch from Minerva’s face. She leaned in, eyes locked on Minerva’s-  
“Madam Pomfrey?”  
Poppy started in her office chair. Had she dozed off? A student stood in her doorway, looking sheepish at having found her dozing.   
“Madam Pomfrey, my friend needs help,” the tall Hufflepuff said.  
Poppy stood, brushing off her apron and bustling into the room to do her job.  
When the student and her friend left, cured of a simple headache, Poppy sat down heavily on a bed. What am I doing, daydreaming like a schoolgirl?! she chided herself silently. It was foolish to even imagine what it could be like if Minerva felt for her at all.  
She adjusted her cap, stoic. And despite it all, she could still feel Minerva McGonagall’s warm breath on her cheek and see her tangled, flowered hair.

Poppy was cross legged on the floor of the office when Minerva entered.  
At the sight, she let out a laugh that filled Poppy’s heart like a hot air balloon. Her laughs were rare but always Poppy’s favorite part of her week.   
“Whatever could you be doing?” Minerva asked, staring at her.  
Poppy shook her head. “I’ve dropped my key, and I cant seem to find it anywhere.” “Finder spells not good enough for you?” she replied, bending down to join her on the floor.   
“Oh, rubbish. I charmed it against that. I wouldn’t want anyone stealing the key.”  
Minerva joined her in the search, smiling to herself.   
After a short time, Minerva spotted the key under a table. Poppy had seen it at as well, and Minerva’s hand went over hers as they reached for it simultaneously.   
The key was forgotten as they looked up at each other, neither moving.  
The pause felt like an eternity before Minerva drew her hand away, looking at the floor.  
There was a slight hesitation before Poppy reached for her retreating hand, with a barely audible “Minerva...”  
Minerva let her hand hang in Poppy’s grip, an odd feeling in her stomach. The inches between them on the floor felt smaller with every breath. She shut her eyes to block out the matron’s radiant face, blonde hair cascading down her long neck. Hair that shone like the sun and eyes that glistened like the moon...  
“Min. You know I think you’re the most beautiful woman in the world, right?” Poppy said softly.  
Minerva felt the color rise in her cheeks. She stared at Poppy, torn between her heart to stay and her head telling her to run.   
She listened to her head.  
Minerva pulled her hand out of Poppy’s grasp and stood hastily. “I’m- I’m sorry. I have to go.”  
Poppy didn’t miss the tears in her eyes as she fled the room.

The next time they saw each other was the next day, late in the afternoon. Minerva entered the hospital wing, a flurry of robes and clicking footsteps. Raised on a magical stretcher before her was a young Gryffindor, who was nursing an arm badly that looked painfully twisted out of place.  
“Really, Professor,” the Gryffindor was saying. “I could’ve walked. Its just my arm.”  
Poppy watched Minerva tuck a hair that had fallen out of her tight updo behind her ear. She smiled despite herself, then shook it off, setting her wand to casting diagnostic spells.  
“Nonsense, Macafferty. Better safe than sorry,” Minerva answered, pushing up her sleeves.   
Poppy bustled around the young man’s bedside, addressing the issue of his arm.   
“Professor McGonagall is correct, young man. It is simply safety protocol. In this case, however, it looks like its just a broken arm.”  
“Yes, ma’am,” the boy said, wincing at his arm.  
“How did this happen?” Poppy asked, distracting the boy as she prepared to fix the bone.   
“Quidditch friendly, ma’am. A bludger came outta no where and rammed right inta me!”  
Poppy raised her eyebrows at Minerva on the other side of the bed. “A quidditch match? And you were there?”  
The boy grinned and answered for Minerva. “The professor’s one of our biggest fans. She always comes to our matches. Saves the pitches for us for practice and everythin.”  
Poppy cast the spell, sending the boys arm back into place. “Ow!”   
“Take this, every night for a week. Before you go to bed. Come to me if you feel any residual pain,” Poppy said briskly. She held out her hand. “Madam Pomfrey, and you are?”  
“George Macafferty, ma’am. Nice to meet you,” he said, gingerly extending his newly healed arm to shake. “Can I go back to the common room now?”  
Poppy smiled warmly at him. “I don’t see why not.”  
With a thank you! over his shoulder, the boy scurried out of the room, red and gold quidditch robes flowing behind him.  
Poppy faced the transfiguration professor, turning her smile towards the brunette.   
“Quidditch fan, huh?”  
Minerva put her wand in a pocket of her robe. “I help out the school wherever I can,” she answered finally.  
Her stiff tone left Poppy momentarily speechless. She’d hoped, even if their relationship couldn’t evolve, at least they could stay the way they were.  
Poppy continued. “You know, I was thinking...”  
“You know, I really have to go. I’ve got... I’m rather busy at the moment,” Minerva said haltingly.   
“Oh, yes, of course,” Poppy answered, no longer smoothing the sheets.   
The two women made eye contact over the starch white bed.  
Poppy watched her go as she broke away and hurried from the room.

Poppy Pomfrey placed a stack of linens on the next hospital wing bed. She bent over the sheets, folding with thin, experienced hands. She could’ve gotten the house elves to do it, but she found it helped her think.  
A common theme of her thoughts had become Minerva McGonagall. A common theme since the day they met, she corrected wryly.   
A tall, bookish woman with a face that rarely smiled or made a kind comment, she could appear unapproachable. But the transfiguration professor was not unkind, despite her formidable appearance. Maybe it was the way her curls were prone to falling out of the upsweep at the back of her head. Or maybe it was the way her eyes twinkled when she thought no one was looking.  
Whatever it was, the woman was stuck in her mind.   
When they’d had tea together, she’d thought something other than the tea was brewing. But after the day before, Minerva was cold and closed off again, much like she had been when they’d first met.   
And now Poppy didn’t have anything to think about but what a big mistake she’d made.


	4. Chapter 4

Most of the staff was seated together at a table in a Hogsmeade pub, a gathering organized by Professors Sprout and Flitwick. Minerva found herself at the end of the table, a few seats down from Poppy. Stubborn as ever, she had not spoken much to Poppy since their last meeting. Distance was the best thing for them. She was decidedly ignoring how much it hurt.  
The night went by slowly, butterbeer passed around the table, with Minerva declining to touch the pitcher. The only ones remaining sober were her and Poppy, which she noticed despite her best attempt to pay no attention to the matron. She didn’t want to find out what would happen if she did allow herself to drink with Poppy in the room.  
Songs were exchanged, as were hearty pats on the back, outrageous tales, and uproarious laughter.   
As Minerva sipped her tea, she flinched at another unexpected slap on the back. “So, that madam pomfrey!” Filius Flitwick squeaked.  
Minerva looked up, startled, at the matron’s name.   
Flitwick leaned closer to the table. “A very nice lady, if i do say so myself.”   
“Easy on the eyes,” the muggle studies professor agreed.   
Minerva found herself twisting her napkin tightly in her hands.  
The defense against the dark arts teacher, (one of many in the past few years) who Minerva was seated directly next to, leaned in closer to the other male teachers. “I’d love to see those tits disrobed, though,” he said conspiratorially.  
Minerva’s blood pounded in her ears at his words. The drunken men were anything but subtle, and near the whole table could hear the conversation.   
Sprout laughed loudly. “Going to take a bite of her, professor?”  
“Indeed I might!” he answered, swinging his glass about.   
This was the last straw, and Minerva stood quickly, knocking her teacup over in her haste. Liquid sloshed over the table, leaving several professors gazing at her in shock.  
She avoided their eyes, and hurried from the booth, without bothering to clean the spill or say her goodbyes. Without another word, she left the pub, a flurry of green robes.   
Several stared after her. “That was very..unlike Minerva,” Flitwick mused, his drunken smile never leaving his face. “I wonder if something upset her?”  
Poppy Pomfrey stood and raised her wand to clean the spill. She gazed awkwardly at the table. “You know, she was probably just tired. I think-I think I ought to go after her. Make sure she gets home alright.”  
A chorus of goodbyes sounded, and none questioned the logic of aiding a perfectly capable transfiguration professor reach her nearby home. 

The clouds were dark and heavy and happily emptying their contents, drenching Poppy the second she hurried outside. She squinted, looking for green robes through the pelting rain. She didn’t have to look far. Minerva McGonagall was leaning on the side of the small bridge that lead over the small current running through Hogsmeade. She, too, was soaked, and she made no move to cast an umbrella charm as she gazed down at the water, arms braced on the bridge rail.   
Poppy approached her slowly, ignoring the rain. “Min,” she said softly.  
Minerva turned, her normally guarded face aghast. “Mada- Poppy.”  
“Are you alright?”  
“Are you?”  
The two women faced each other on the bridge, ignoring the chill.   
“You do care,” Poppy finally said, her heart jumping in her chest in a way it hadn’t in a while.  
The dam broke, all of Minerva’s emotions rushing to the surface. “Lord, Poppy! Care? Care? I feel more deeply for you then I’ve felt for anyone in my entire life! My heart seems to beat for you, and you only! And what am I to do about it! Bear it as our colleagues discuss you like a slab of meat, like some toy to be traded amongst young boys?! I cannot make it go away, but nor can I ignore it. And how can I accept it, when it frightens me so!”  
Poppy couldn’t help thinking Minerva stood there looking like an emerald eyed water sprite, chest heaving, soaked to the bone, but no less beautiful.  
She drew closer, and Minerva didn’t flinch away, but stood there, chest heaving. “Min, please don’t be afraid,” Poppy said, hand reaching up to cup the other woman’s fine jaw.  
“I’ve come to realize...there might not be a point in being scared any longer.”   
Their kiss was sweet and warm under the cold of the rain, two pairs of soft lips meeting desperately.   
And little could be seen in the downpour, but some might’ve sworn they saw two soaked ladies stumbling into Minerva McGonagall’s home, their hands clasped together tightly. 

The fire was warm, and they huddled closer together near it, and the only sound was crackling logs and soft breathing. Minerva didn’t realize how close they were until their thighs bumped on the carpet. She turned her head slowly, scarcely conscious of what she was doing. Her hand lifted to Poppy’s face, her thumb tracing her cheek softly.   
Their faces were barely inches apart, green eyes staring intently into blue.  
Poppy reached up to touch Minerva’s cheek as well, sending a shudder down her spine.  
Poppy’s lips met hers carefully, and their second kiss felt like flower petals and spring.  
Poppy’s hands reached behind Minerva’s head, finding the pins in her sopping wet hair.   
Brown locks fell around her shoulders, hair that was rarely released from its tight bun bouncing happily down.   
Poppy pulled back, hands cupping her face once more. Minerva’s face felt cold at the loss of her lips.  
“You’re so beautiful,” Poppy said simply. Then she leaned in to kiss her again. 

The next morning, Poppy found herself stretched out on an unfamiliar bed, light shining through open windows.   
So, it wasn’t a dream, she mused happily.  
Poppy looked down at the soft pressure on her chest. Minerva McGonagall was curled tightly into her, bare shoulders warm on Poppy’s side. Her brown curls framed her pointed face, loose coils that smelled of apple and chocolate shavings.   
Poppy kept her breathing steady, letting Minerva rest, and enjoying the view of her sleeping face. Finally, she kissed Minerva lightly on her forehead, smiling as she began to stir.  
“hey.” Minerva murmured, blinking sleep out of her eyes. She yawned, lifting her head. She leaned her elbow on a pillow, propping herself up above Poppy. Her small smile mixed with the sun rays entering the bedroom.  
“Hey,” poppy returned, stretching her arms.   
Minerva frowned. “Merlins beard! Are there classes today?”  
“Its a Sunday,” Poppy reminded her, who relaxed.   
“oh, right. goodness its late!” Minerva exclaimed, checking the time.  
Poppy raised her brows. “It cant be later than nine.”   
The transfiguration teacher smiled sheepishly. “I get up early.”  
“Somehow, that doesn’t surprise me.”  
When they finally rose from the small bed, they set about making breakfast.   
Poppy sat at Minerva’s counter in one of the woman’s old quidditch jerseys. She began to speak as she was handed a cup of tea. Her knuckles brushed gently against Minerva’s as she accepted it.   
“So...We probably ought to talk about that,” she prodded to Minerva’s back, who had turned to the eggs.  
She watched as the woman stilled at the stove.  
“I’m still afraid, Poppy. But...you make me feel safe.” She said simply.  
And that was that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope u enjoyed :)

**Author's Note:**

> I will get the next chapter up ASAP, it gets more exciting, I promise.


End file.
